


The End of The World

by AbbyWritesTrash



Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Apocalypse, Drabble, End of the World, Feelings Realization, M/M, Mild Gore, Realization, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 17:16:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13931649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbbyWritesTrash/pseuds/AbbyWritesTrash
Summary: Ryo learns to feel (every emotion at once).





	The End of The World

“Finish what you started!"

It’s screamed, as a self-sacrificial war cry, the world around them laced with flames. Akira’s body is no longer capable of fighting, his limbs shredded and muscles all but falling from the bone. His claws have been forcibly removed, his fingertips broken and removed from his body, and his tail is laying limp against the cold cobblestone he’s sitting atop of, discarded of as if it’d never been attached to his body in the first place. The sky isn’t black, like Akira had imagined it would be, but a swirling pool of violet and crimson, and it would have been beautiful if the situation hadn’t been so dire. 

Ryo stands before him, his eyes glazed and unfocused and so, so blue. He’d drifted down back onto the earth’s surface like an afterthought as Akira had crumbled and formed a heap on the floor. Ryo’s body is injured too, a few of his wings missing and those that remain attached have feathers missing or ruffled. He’s only bleeding from a wound on his chest, but the wound isn’t a small one, and it cuts down through the fat and muscle of one of his breasts, right over his heart. Akira is heaving for breath, but Ryo looks unfazed, his expression neutral, if not slightly saddened. He doesn’t look at Akira, but above him and into the void, flames flickering in the reflection of his eyes. 

“Ryo!” Akira screams, enraged. 

Ryo doesn’t blink, nor does he react  _ at all, _ only continuing to stare forward until his face begins to soften and his brows furrow. Ryo’s mouth tips open, and with a look of relief, he inhales, deep and strong enough for his whole body to move with the motion. He collapses forward onto his hands and knees and Akira can’t stop himself from crawling to him, watching as Ryo’s body morphs back to it’s human form, wounds remaining, and into a mangled heap. Ryo’s hands press against the wound on his chest, and he  _ screams  _ into the silence around them, his face twisted with anguish. Akira stops a few feet away from him, watching, waiting. 

Akira doesn’t know what to do. Without the protection of his powers and angel form, Ryo is defenseless. Akira could kill him in a heartbeat, but there’s something about the pain on Ryo’s face, a pain Akira has never seen  _ in his life _ , that is stopping him from doing it - from doing anything at all. Akira has seen pain, real pain, people at the end of their lives, people watching their own flesh and blood die, and it still pales in comparison to the way Ryo heaves, screams, and claws at himself, as if he wants to be free of his own skin. It’s so much more than physical or emotional pain. Ryo’s very  _ core, all that he’s ever been  _ seems to have been ripped away from him. 

It’s the first time Akira has seen Ryo cry, and he’s  _ weeping,  _ his body shaking with every breath and his illuminatingly white skin is rough and red with pain. It’s enough to make Akira cry, too, to watch his best friend shatter into a million shards of glass. “Ryo.” Akira whispers, and he crawls to Ryo’s side, using his mutilated hands to pull Ryo into his chest, holding him.

Ryo clutches onto Akira’s chest, nails digging into him hard enough to break skin. Akira takes Ryo’s bloodstained face in his hands and looks at him, deeply. 

He’s still furious and filled with hatred for Ryo - Satan. The world he once knew is now gone, burnt into a pile of stone and dust. His loved ones are dead, the very people who raised him and made him the man he stands as today. He’s unsure of how much of a soul he still has - what little that may be left probably corrupted and blackened beyond repair. 

But he still  _ feels _ . Akira’s one downfall, the man who could cry for the monster taking his life, the boy who would cry for defenseless kittens out in thunderstorms,  _ he  _ still remains. His body and mind have changed, but his love hasn’t and never will, which is why he continues to stare into his best friend’s eyes as he hold him, as he watches him fall apart. 

There’s something about Ryo that makes his downfall all the more heartbreaking. 

There’s something about watching someone who could never feel  _ finally  _ understand. 

And now Ryo feels everything. 

He feels the pain of every person he’s ever hurt, feels the suffering and torment of watching their family burn and die, feels every knife, bullet, and poison that he’s ever inflicted. His body is encased in fire and razor sharp needles, his heart repeatedly stabbed and his lungs eternally squeezed tight, Akira’s hands offering the only form of tormenting chill, because Akira is a sickening punishment, too. 

Ryo feels love for him. He feels his heart thudding and butterflies in his stomach, feels the warmth of a thousand sunsets together, feels his lips prickling and swollen from too many kisses, feels his body aching and urging for Akira as his stomach twists and another dagger is twisted inside of him. 

The love is somehow worse than the pain, and it makes Ryo wonder if Akira felt this way. 

Somehow, Ryo knows that he did. 

And he suddenly understands why Akira was such a crybaby. 


End file.
